


On the Wings of a Demon

by LunarAsylum



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demon Dean Winchester, Dying Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2014-08-27
Packaged: 2018-02-15 00:09:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2208261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunarAsylum/pseuds/LunarAsylum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel knew Dean was a demon when he answered the phone. His expectations were far worse than reality, which was enough of a shock. It was even more shocking when Dean was under a similar mission as him: Saving him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Wings of a Demon

“Cas...”

 

“Yes, Dean?”

 

“I know I've asked like a thousand times-”

 

“Have you actually counted, Dean?”

 

“No. I-Cas, just shut up for a minute, okay?”

 

“Yes, Dean.”

 

“Anyway, I'm just curious, despite how many times you've answered this before, but... Is there ever going to be a chance for me to see your wings? Ever?”

 

Castiel had counted the times that Dean had asked this question since their bond had begun and deepened. Dean had asked him this precisely 354 times, which was quite a distance from 'like a thousand times'.

 

“No, Dean, I don't think so. Your brain would have to evolve well beyond your time as well as your eyes to be able to perceive the visage of my wings,” he spoke, the glass of his phone sticking to his face uncomfortably.

 

“But it's different now, Cas. You know it's different,” Dean said, his voice echoing slightly over the receiver. That was also a truth Dean had spoken during this conversation, making his chest feel tight, yet hollow at the same time.

 

“I understand, Dean,” he said, sinking into a seat he had sought out. It wasn't a comfortable conversation he and Dean were having. It had been a few months since Sam had disclosed the nature of Dean's being to him and it had been like learning Dean had died over again.

 

“So, even with me as I am, I couldn't see them?”

 

“I cannot guarantee you an accurate answer, Dean. I don't understand why this is all you're willing to focus on-”

 

“Because you're dying, Cas! And you'd rather die than do what you have to,” he snapped over the phone. “I'm sick of seeing you do what you have to when it's not necessary! Dammit, Cas, when will you learn to actually do things for yourself?”

 

“Because that is not what I was designed to do, Dean.”

 

“Then do it for me, if that's what you're more concerned about. If you want to 'save' me as you and Sam put it, then you fix yourself first, you hear me?”

 

“Yes, Dean.”

 

“Promise me, Cas. You'll do what you have to to survive. Or every time we talk, I'll ask you about your wings.”

 

“I promise, Dean.”

 

“Good. We'll talk later.”

 

Dean was gone with an audible click, leaving Castiel to his thoughts and discomforts. He had been more focused on trying to find a cure for Dean than he had been trying to help himself and keep himself alive.

 

Realistically, he didn't care whether or not he lived or died at this point as long as Dean's humanity was completely restored. Running a calloused hand over his face, he sighed unnecessarily, before standing and exiting the hotel room. He had to transport himself as a human would so as not to overuse what Grace he had left.

 

It was several months later when the confrontation finally happened. He saw Dean face-to-face for the first time, and he honestly had no idea what to expect from it all. He had, more or less, expected Dean to react like Dean and punch him around or shout at him, but he was greeted with neither.

 

Instead, he was greeted with an awestruck expression which slowly melted into an anguished one.

 

“You look awful,” he said quietly, approaching Castiel with caution. “But I see you. I see you instead of your vessel.”

 

“Dean,” echoed Sam's voice behind them, though Dean's attention to Castiel didn't falter.

 

“Later, Sam,” he said shortly, as his eyes followed the folded outlines of what would be Castiel's wings. “Your wings look like Gadreel's.”

 

“I am much in the same state he once was,” Castiel spoke, wary of having Dean so close, especially with the fact that he could see every twisted strand of Dean's soul. The corruption darkened what was once bright, and eternal, but there was an echo of that still there, within all the darkness.

 

“You promised me.”

 

“I did, Dean, and I have not reneged on that promise. I have just found no solution, long or short term.

 

“You know exactly what the solution is. You refuse to do it,” Dean growled, his eyes flitting black to remind Castiel exactly what and who he was.

 

“I will not extend that fate to another of my kind so that I may live,” Castiel said, frowning in defense.

 

“You said whatever you had to do,” Dean said, his face speaking of his clear frustration. Sam stood forgotten in the background, examining the exchange with an almost curious expression. It was odd to see Dean like this, almost like him old self in the face of an old friend.

 

“You said whatever I had to do.”

 

“And you agreed. Do not argue me on this Cas, you will not win.”

 

“There is no room for an argument, Dean, because I will not sacrifice another angel in my na-”

 

The movements were so fast, Sam barely had time to react as Dean shoved Castiel up against a wall, one hand gripping the coat lapels, raising him off the floor slightly.

 

“You're right. There's no room for argument because I'll fucking do it for you then,” he growled, his eyes still as black as the outer parts of his soul.

 

“So, here's the deal. Either you find yourself an angel willing to make the sacrifice, or I just make the sacrifice for you, and they will probably die a might painful death, whereas, on your end, they could just rip out their Grace and fall to Earth, and be reborn as a human. So take your pick,” Dean snapped before letting Castiel back on to the ground, though his hand was still wrapped in his coat.

 

“Why are you so adamant on this, Dean? I do not understand your pursuit of this,” Castiel said, causing Dean to give an exasperated cry.

 

“Why are you so damn persistent on 'fixing' me?” he snapped, his eyes finally back to their human-green color.

 

“Because this is my fault?”

 

“And _how_ is this your fault? Did you force me to take the Mark? Did you somehow force me to-to hunt down the Blade and use it? No, you didn't Cas, so stop making this some kind of pity party for you. This isn't your fault, this isn't anyone's but my own, do you hear me? And this could be a whole lot worse.”

 

“How could this be worse, Dean?”

 

“We could all be dead.”

 

“And that's worse how?”

 

There was a loud skin-on-skin echo throughout the room, and Castiel looked stunned as he clasped a hand over his nose.

 

“If you ever dare to talk like that in front of me again, I will show you just how much worse everything could be,” he snarled. “Value yourself, you dumb son of a bitch. We wouldn't be here if it were for you. The world would be gone if it weren't for you. You'd be some mindless fool to Lucifer, or dead along with us. So for the love of all that's good, just stop the pity party.”

 

“You make it sound like it's so easy, Dean. Will all the wrong I've done, all the travesties, and crimes I've committed, I don't des-”

 

“Do you remember when you first raised me? How I thought I didn't deserve to be saved? How there was no way in Hell I deserved anything more than that place in Hell?”

 

“I could never forget that, Dean.”

 

“Good. The stop swimming in a pool of angel sorrow and do something about your shit. Fix yourself. You can't fix me if you can't fix you,” Dean said, and that was the first time either of them had heard Dean even mention fixing himself as if though there were actually a problem.

 

“Sometimes, I don't understand you, Dean. And I've gained a lot of knowledge and understanding during my time with you Winchesters,” Castiel said quietly, and Dean just smirked at him.

 

“You're not supposed to try and understand people, Cas. Not really. Just take the friendly offer and take off with it with caution. That's all life is. Taking what helps you help others.”

 

Dean approached Castiel, leaving very little space between them. “So are you going to do what I told you to?”

 

“Can I trust you, Demon?” Castiel asked, though there was a small smile on his lips.

 

“That's the right answer.”

 


End file.
